I love that sexy Belfast scowl
The “No surrrender” that you growl
The way you sneer at anything that’s green
I’ll dress up in a Sunday suit
With bowler hat and sash to boot
I’ll even learn to play the flute, Arlene

I’ll give you anything you need
I’ll shake that magic money tree
Just say that you will be my friend, Arlene
We’ll be as close as anything
I’d even wear your wedding ring
But you don’t like that kind of thing, Arlene

We beg your pardon – You don’t fool us by singing Dolly Parton
You’re out of order – You surely promised us a hard border
Don’t give us moonshine – You know for Ulster this is payback time
When you take you gotta give and give or out you go
Oh woe woe woe
So hey big spender
The DUP’s last word is “NO SURRENDER”